The Kind Hearted Man Killer Takes a Trip
A
few years ago I wrote a fictional diary of a young woman, which I set in the
1940s and 1950s. This woman was labouring
under a curse after upsetting the local “witch”, and the curse had the
unfortunate effect of killing off every man that she came into contact with. A
bit daft maybe, but I enjoyed myself and that’s the main thing.
Well,
this being the 1950s, of course I couldn’t not include a visit to the
Festival. Here’s the extract:
Managed
to scrape a new outfit together for the trip to the Festival. Got my bridesmaid outfit skirt altered and
wearing it with a more comfortable and plain blouse. Will take my angora cardigan too but it
promises to be fine if this weather holds.
Shoes need repairs though.
I
think Jenny might be a bit jealous but Joan is adamant that she wants it to be
just us two. She says she wants to ask
me something. I’m not going back to the
café while he’s there.
Got
my clothes all out ready and a pack of sandwiches. Long day tomorrow, got to be up so early but
don’t think I can sleep. Neither of us has been to London
What
a day yesterday was. Very long and
tiring. The train journey went without a
hitch and we did well on the underground though I found it quite
frightening. I’m not rushing to go for a
ride on that again. Now I know how a sardine feels – one that’s being cooked in
its tin. The Festival was marvellous
although we spent a lot of time queuing, the worst of it being the queuing for
drinks when we were so thirsty after the underground ride. We picked a lovely warm day. And it felt so
nice being with Joan again too. It was
just the journey home again that disturbed my holiday feeling. Our train was quite a late one, and after
Grantham we got the compartment completely to ourselves. That’s when Joan told me that she’d been
wanting to talk to me without any big ears flapping and now was her chance.
“I’m
not happy, Lou.” She said to me. “I’m at
my wits end I just don’t know what to do next.”
“Bill?” I guessed, and she nodded. I knew it. She regrets the day she ever clapped eyes on
him and certainly regrets marrying him so quickly. She admits she’s been a complete fool and
doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed or just plain miserable. I felt ever so sorry for her. I had thought she’d brought it on herself but
I can see now what sort of a man he is.
One who has to have it his own way all the time and who bullies and
coaxes until he gets it. He wanted her
money and went right out to get it. Daft Joan bought the house with her own
money and put it in his name. He’s
taking the money that she earns at the café.
If she leaves him he’ll get it all.
It’s all so unfair.
So
then we came up with our plan which I’m not going to write down now. All to do with my curse. It’s a bit distasteful for me I must say but
I’ll do it for Joan.
Here
comes the shameless plug that I’ve been working up to. You can download this
book onto your Kindle for the festive sum of 99p by clicking
Or
you can read bits of it on the blog here:
Unfortunately
this is in reverse order, what with it being a blog.
posted by Sarah Miller Walters @ 04:10
0 Comments
